


Nothing Like Her Love

by WynnLo



Category: The Devil Wears Prada (2006)
Genre: F/F, Non-Sexual Age Play, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Terribly OOC
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-10-27 10:03:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17764691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WynnLo/pseuds/WynnLo
Summary: In a city as vast as New York, Andrea Sachs has always felt small. Always felt lost and insignificant in comparison to the ones she clumsily bumps into. Andrea is constantly comparing her life with the lives of others, always feeling like she’s doing everything wrong, feeling far too incapable of getting anything right. It all becomes too much sometimes and she never really has anyone to turn to when it does. And the one person she’s able to turn to does nothing but contribute to the problem. However, the moment Andrea hits rock bottom is the exact moment her life begins to fall into place.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It's back up by popular demand. Btw, do you like that shitty little cover I made?

 

╫

 

Thunder was rumbling loudly overhead and lightning was flashing angrily amongst the clouds, but it didn’t stop her from running. With her feet continuously pounding into the pavement Andrea kept moving until the yelling coming from behind her was drowned away by the falling rain. There was a burning pain spreading through her chest and she soon became breathless as she rounded the corner of yet another towering building.

 

The darkness of night and her quickly swelling eye made it hard to see, while her racing mind and hopeless heart made it quite hard to think. She didn’t know where she was going. She just knew that she needed to find someplace safe, but given the past few months of her life, Andrea wasn’t so sure she knew what safety was anymore. In the blink of an eye the sound of screeching tires pierced through the wet and empty streets.

 

There was muffled swearing and before her mind could process what had nearly happened, she fell to her knees on slippery tar, right in the front of gleaming headlights. Andrea’s head hit the ground a second after. She barely managed to make out the driver and the sound of their rushed footsteps after they sprung from their vehicle.

 

Andrea lay soaked and unmoving in the middle of the road.

 

Thunder blared once more.

 

╫

 

Miranda Priestly stood in front of the large window of her office toying with a string of pearls laced around her neck. She closed her eyes momentarily to really take in the bellowing thunder coming from the outside of Elias-Clark. _How therapeutic_ , she thought with a look of contentment on her face. The rain didn’t seem to be letting up any time soon, but that didn’t seem to deter the woman as she’d put in a lot of work for the day and happened to be more than ready to leave the office. She moved from her place near the pane to sit within the lavish chair behind her desk. After a brief look at the clock beside her calendar, Miranda’s lips quirked downward in displeasure. Her driver should have been here by now.

 

“Emily.” The woman called out to her assistant who was at her office’s door in seconds.

 

“Yes Miranda?” The redhead appeared attentive.

 

“Where is Dixon? Why is he not here yet? Is he dead?” She questioned in an unnervingly calm tone of voice.

 

“Um, I –I ah…” The girl looked like a fish out of water as she struggled for the right response. “I’m afraid I haven’t h-heard from him all night, ma’am.”

 

Miranda quirked a brow, more than unimpressed. “Oh really? And why is that?”

 

The phone at Emily’s desk rung at that moment and the redhead was more than relieved. She looked at her boss hesitantly though. “Should I go and get that?”

 

The editor deadpanned. “It’s ringing isn’t it?”

 

Emily bit her tongue and folded her lips. “Right.” She said before going to answer the phone.

 

She distinctly remembered the last time she was in conversation with her boss and the phone had rang.  Apparently, the phone ringing does not dismiss Emily, Miranda does; the redhead had had to learn that the hard way, though. Never mind that, just as she’d picked up the phone and went to give Runway’s customary greeting, Dixon’s slightly panicked voice sounded through the line.

 

_“Emily?”_

 

“Dixon!” Emily exclaimed through a whisper while side eyeing the opening of her boss’s office, “Dixon, where the hell are you?”

 

 _“I know, I know I’m a little late, but not without good reason.”_ He paused before admitting, _“Something happened on the way_ _over.”_

 

The redhead suddenly looked just as panicked as Dixon sounded, “What do you mean something happened?” The assistant tried desperately to keep her volume low so as to not alert Miranda that anything was amiss.

 

 _“There was a girl,”_ the driver told her.

 

Emily was confused. “What girl?”

 

He sighed, _“She’s in the car.”_

 

“What the hell are you talking about, Dixon. You better make sense before–” Emily’s eyes widened when the phone had been snatched from her grasp.

 

Miranda was suddenly at her side with her coat on and purse at hand, “Dixon, dear, you have one minute precisely before my arrival to the lobby. I would simply like to wish you luck in advance with finding future employment within the state if things are not to my liking when I get down.” She smiled none too kindly into the phone, and despite the man not being able to see it, she was certain he heard it through her tone. “See you soon, now.”

 

 And just like that, Miranda was off, on her way to the elevators and Emily could not stop her.

 

╫

 

Several floors down, Miranda was exiting the lobby when her driver hurriedly came up to her from his spot near the car. “Ma’am, I am terribly sorry for my lack of punctuality but I–”

 

“Dixon, seriously. Save it for the ride.” Miranda brushed pass him without a second glance. “Or better yet, keep it to yourself. I’d rather not hear all the ways in which you’ve proved your idiocy this time around.”

 

The man struggled to keep up with her pace. “Ma’am, I know that you’d rather not but –it’s…it’s important and I think you should know about it before you get in.”

 

Miranda stopped right at the side of the car parked near the pavement. It was drizzling by this time and Dixon had already had an umbrella out to cover his boss’ head as he himself was rained upon. “How important must this information be that you turned up five minutes late after your expected arrival time, hm?”

 

“Uh, very important, m-ma’am.”  His dress-shirt was beginning to stick to his skin and he dreaded telling his boss about what had happened on the way over.

 

“ _Well_ ,” Miranda looked impatient now, “ _Out with it_ ,” she demanded.

 

        Unable to find words, Dixon had decided to ‘rip the Band-Aid off’ by opening the car door to reveal what lay on the backseat.

 

        Miranda was puzzled and eerily quiet for a moment, until she turned to the now trembling man in front of her. Whether it be the cold or fear that had him trembling, she didn’t know. And quite frankly, she didn’t care. “What is the meaning of this?” It was questioned through tightly gritted teeth.

 

“She ran out into the road, ma’am.”

 

Miranda’s temper flared as Dixon told her of how he nearly ran the girl over. “And so, what?” The woman seethed. “You shoved her in the backseat of my car instead of calling the paramedics?”

 

Dixon looked like he was about ready to wet himself. “I know you don’t like to be kept waiting.” He pleaded for her to understand why he’d done what he did. “If I had called the paramedics it would have taken a while for them to see her to a hospital. I wanted to make sure she was safe.”

 

Miranda stood still for a while. Still and mute. Thinking over her driver’s words. “Get in the car.” She demanded without further say. He’d only closed the umbrella once his boss was securely fitted into the backseat. Then, stressed and sodden from the rain, he himself got in.

 

╫

 

During the car ride, Miranda had called her physician asking him if he would be able to come to her house due to an urgent matter. She withheld most of the details and only hung up when the physician had agreed to stop by on his way home.

 

Miranda had no desire to drive a long route to any hospital or medical center, and there was a greater chance of the girl getting help sooner this way. Because sure enough, when Dixon had pulled up to her lavish home, Miranda’s family physician was seen standing just on the outside, patiently waiting.

 

“Dixon, be a dear and carry the girl on the inside for me.” The editor had told her driver as she exited the car.

 

“Of course.” He had complied as he’d held the car door open for his boss.

 

While Miranda greeted the doctor, Dixon had worked to carefully pull the unconscious girl from the car and carry her into the house.

 

.

 

        “Where would you like me to place her, ma’am?”

 

        Miranda looked around the place for a moment before she pointed to the couch “Right there is fine,” she told him as she placed her purse aside.

 

        Once Dixon had placed the brunette on the chair, the doctor came up beside the girl to asses her. He readily pulled his stethoscope from his medical bag to listen for the rate of the girl’s heartbeat.

 

Miranda was no doctor, but from behind the couch, in better lighting, she could make out every single bit of the young girl before her. And Miranda was certainly confused as to why the sight of the girl suddenly had such a nerve-racking effect on her.

 

The editor frowned. The girl had bruises around her neck, a black eye that would surely last a while and a split lip that seemed painful just to touch.

 

But under all of the girl’s bruises and injuries, Miranda was in awe of the brunette’s undeniable beauty. She had smooth ivory skin, scarlet tainted cheeks and a blanket of dark hair that was especially beautiful in contrast to the white pillows of Miranda’s living room couch.

 

As Miranda stared, mesmerized by the unconscious brunette, she barely caught the beginning of the doctor’s assessment.

 

“Her heart rate seems to be fine and she doesn’t have a temperature but, based on the contusions around her neck, I’d say that she was choked. Rather harshly, too. Not to mention she’ll have a serious shiner real soon.” He said while brushing his fingertips along the darkening skin around the girl’s eye. “What exactly happened?” The physician asked as he retracted his stethoscope from the girl’s chest.

 

Dixon cleared his throat from the side, “She fell,” he told him.

 

“She _fell_?” The doctor looked at him disbelievingly.

 

“Well, yes.” The driver shifted on his feet. “I didn’t hit her or anything. She just came rushing out into the road and I was quick enough to miss her. She stood there looking just as shocked as I was and then she just…fell.”

 

“Hmm,” the doctor processed Dixon’s words. “So she was injured far before the accident...” He thought aloud while brushing back hair from the girl’s temple. “These scratches must be from where she hit the ground then,” he barely touched the reddened patch of skin.

 

“I suppose,” Dixon shrugged.

 

Miranda was surprisingly silent until she broke away from staring at the girl. “Well, doctor, what do you suggest?”

 

Zipping up his bag the physician looked up from his patient and towards Miranda, “since it’s nothing too serious, I’d say you should put an ice pack on her eye so that the swelling can go down. She’s most likely going to have a headache when she wakes so, have her take a few painkillers. Really, she doesn’t seem to be in any serious danger. Well, I’d have to examine her further in order to know for sure but, her unconscious state is most likely due to being overwhelmed.” He sighed, “Imagine running from a traumatic situation and nearly getting knocked over by an unexpected car. Her body shut itself down because of all the commotion and…that’s okay. She’ll be okay.” He paused with a small smile before handing Miranda a little tube from his lab coat, “I like to keep some of that on hand. It’s for the scrapes.”

 

Miranda took the offered item and looked it over. _Triple Antibiotic Cream._ She nodded with her brows furrowed, “And when do you think she’ll wake, exactly?”

 

He looked back down to the girl to shine his medical pen light in both of her eyes. “She should be up by morning.” He hummed, “Maybe sooner.”

 

“Who would do this to a kid though?” Dixon asked without thought, “She has to be around fifteen, maybe sixteen…” He frowned.

 

The doctor shrugged, “Not to belittle the importance of this here situation, but I’ve seen worse. Seriously.” The doctor sighed yet again while eyeing his wrist watch. “I’m afraid I must be on my way now.” The man made way for the door.

 

Miranda remained near the back of the couch while her driver saw the Doctor out.

 

“You take care Ms.Priestly,” she’d heard him say but was far too lost in thought to reply. No, instead her mind was clouded by the sight of the frail, yet captivating brunette before her. 

 

╫

 

 

“Are you sure you’ll be alright for the rest of the night, ma’am?”

 

Miranda pursed her lips through the crack of her front door. She sent a backwards glance to the unconscious girl, unaware and unmoving on her living room couch. “I’ll manage just fine.” She exhaled… _I hope so, anyway_. “I’ve decided to take tomorrow off either way, so. Goodnight, Dixon.”

 

Dixon smiled shortly through the slit of the closing door, “Goodnight, Ms.Priestly.”

 

╫

 

        It had been a long day at work for Miranda, but she was just glad to say that she left the office having made a good amount of progress. It was a given, though. After all, Miranda Priestly was nothing but zealous; truly, the best at what she does so…it was expected. What _wasn’t_ expected however was her, at twelve am, folding down the covers within the only guest bedroom she had, to accommodate someone she knew absolutely nothing about.

 

She carefully brushed off the cool duvet with the flat of her palm before she left the bedside and headed back out into the living room. The editor stared down at the girl before reaching forth to attempt lifting her. One could only imagine Miranda’s surprise when the girl turned out to be far much lighter than she looked.

 

The editor couldn’t believe how little effort it caused her to carry the girl from the living room to the prepared guest bed. “You mustn’t have had a solid meal in _weeks_.” She murmured to the sleeping brunette and just as she entered the bedroom, something fell from the girl’s battered sweater onto the wooden floors.

 

She tucked the girl in gently and soon went to pick up a lone plastic card near the opening of the room.

 

Miranda looked puzzled for a moment.

 

It was a student I.D and sure enough, it was the strange girl’s face she saw plastered in the right corner of it. It was nearly unbelievable, to see the smiling wide-eyed brunette in the picture of the I.D and compare it with the worse-for-wear brunette now laying beneath the covers of the bed. “ _Andrea Sachs_ …” Miranda whispered in amazement, looking over to the girl. It confused her that the I.D was registered for the year 2014 yet it was now 2016. But mostly, Miranda was startled to see the girl’s date of birth printed in block figures. “Oh dear, this mustn’t be right.” She gaped, “There is absolutely no way…You’re _twenty_?” It was a rhetorical question, of course.

 

The editor sighed and slipped the I.D into her pocket. She moved to sit just on the edge of the mattress and adjusted the covers around the girl’s shoulders. “ _Andrea_ …” She tried testing the name again while caressing the girl’s scarlet cheek with the soft pad of her thumb. The brunette stirred just slightly, but otherwise remained asleep. Her little nose had scrunched up a bit and her rosy lips (despite being split) quirked up slightly in an unconscious smile.

 

In that moment, Miranda too found herself showing off a content smile of her own.

 

╫

 

 


	2. Two

 

╫

 

As her eyes fluttered open, Andrea’s world seemed to spin on its axis.

 

Her vision was blurry and the pulse within her head seemed to thump harder and harder the closer she came to consciousness. The brunette’s throat pained her to the point where she couldn’t even relish in the comfort of the soft quilt beneath her, all while she mindlessly reached for the base of her neck in her dazed state. She was agitated and in pain and confused and things only got worse the moment she turned over onto her side only to fall off the edge of the bed.

╫

 

Miranda was inside the kitchen prodding a pan of steaming eggs when she heard it. A loud thud followed by a piercing cry coming directly from the guest bedroom. She hurriedly turned off the stove and plated the eggs before rushing towards the source of the sound.

 

When she got there, the editor became frightened and uncertain all at once by what she saw.

 

Andrea was seen on the floor at the side of the bed with the majority of the duvet wrapped around her small waist as she cried her red-rimmed eyes out. Even worse, the girl was apparently startled by Miranda’s appearance and cried even harder than before.

 

“Oh, dear.” Miranda looked all around the room before deciding to put the plate of eggs near the bedside table. “It’s alright dear, you’re okay.” She kneeled down to the young girl and reached out in an effort to calm her down, but the girl only creeped further out of reach from Miranda. The small brunette had huddled into the corner near the door instead, with her pupils blown and her ashen, cherubic face.

 

The editor was thrown by the amount of fear she saw in Andrea’s eyes as the girl tried to put some distance between them two. So the woman held her hands high to show the girl she meant no harm. “It’s okay, Andrea. I’m not going to hurt you.” She said, “I only want to help. You’re safe here, I promise.”

 

Miranda wasn’t sure what to make of the girl’s behavior right now but, given the rough night Andrea had clearly had, she figured it was best to handle the situation in a calm and heedful manner.

 

Big brown watery eyes stared up at Miranda, uncertain, and the sight just broke Miranda’s frigid heart. The little brunette had pulled up the duvet to hide most of her face from Miranda as she continued to whimper in the corner.

 

“You can trust me, Andrea. Look,” she pointed to the bedside table. “I made you some breakfast. Wouldn’t that be nice? A nice warm meal?” She offered in (what she hoped was) a lively tone of voice.

 

Brown eyes looked over for a moment before refocusing on Miranda.

 

“Come on, dear, I’m sure you’d like to try some. You _must_ be hungry.” The woman told her before she took hold of the steaming plate and came over to the lump of covers Andrea had wrapped herself into. “Here you are.” The editor offered the girl the plate and fork but Andrea hadn’t budged.

 

Miranda sighed. “Come now, I won’t bite,” she pressed and then frowned at the apprehensive look she received from the small brunette. The editor was used to that very look when in the office at work or even out in the town in the face of the public. Hell, she’d practically grown immune to it, but to see it coming from the young girl before her…well, it just didn’t sit right with her for some bizarre reason. Miranda became a little desperate in her efforts.

 

 “You don’t have to pay me for it or anything. Just try some, here.” The white-haired woman took it upon herself to break a piece of the eggs and offer it on the fork to Andrea. Still, Miranda grew wary when the girl remained silent and unmoving, but soon, the brunette opened her mouth very slightly and Miranda was careful not to agitate the cut on her trembling bottom lip.

 

“There we go.” Miranda smiled softly as Andrea chewed quietly while fighting not to blush at the praise. She was only sniffling now.

 

“Now, dear, do you think you can manage the rest on your own?”

 

And just as soon as she’d asked, the whimpering started again.

 

“Alright, alright.” Miranda moved forward to cautiously brush the girl’s bangs from her forehead and she was pleased to see that Andrea hadn’t pulled away, despite flinching slightly at the contact. “Hush now, you’re okay.” She told the girl while offering another piece of eggs from the plate.

 

╫

 

All in her corner, Andrea had only eaten half the amount that the (seemingly nice but unfamiliar) lady had cooked for her before she decided that she was done. Really, she didn’t have much of an appetite, which was crazy considering how empty her tummy felt.

 

“Come now Andrea, just one more bite.” The lady tried and the brunette was still in shock to hear her name used by the stranger.

 

 _How?_ Andrea wondered but only shook her head in front of the fork propped near her mouth.

 

The lady sighed before looking down at the plate in her other hand. “Well, I guess you’ve done well enough…” The woman got up from her crouched position in front of her and went to put the plate back down before returning to the brunette.

 

“Now, I’m not sure how much of last night you remember but, for the sake of cutting a long story short, my driver took you in when you’d passed out in the middle of the road.” The lady raised a brow, probably seeking some sort of response from Andrea who remained quiet.

 

So the woman prodded with a tilt of her head, “Do you care to tell me what happened before that?” She asked while gesturing to all of Andrea’s obvious wounds.

 

The brunette frowned and tears pooled in her eyes the moment memories of what had happened the night before started to trickle forth in her mind. As an involuntary action, she started hiccupping again, just on the verge of yet another meltdown and the lady was clearly wary about this.

 

She had reached forth to hastily brush the tears from Andrea’s eyes, “Oh, dear, no.”

 

Seemingly without a thought, the nice lady had pulled the obviously vulnerable girl into her lap to hug her gently in reassurance, “Okay, okay.” The woman tried to soothe her, “If you don’t want to talk about it that’s fine. I just need to know what the next best step is for me to make here.” The woman had looked down at her in what looked like…wait… _was that concern? It couldn’t be_ concern _, right?_ Andrea wasn’t sure but, whatever it was, it made the weight on her little chest feel just a tad bit lighter for some reason. Not to mention how warm and nice it felt to be held in this way. Due to the comforting arms that held her close, Andrea had almost missed what the lady had said next. But once she’d heard her, loud and clear too, the brunette _really_ wished she hadn’t.

 

“Do you have a home, dear?” The lady asked her. “Maybe I could have Dixon take you there?”

 

And, wow, never-mind who Dixon was. What a wrong turn in conversation the woman had made.

 

╫

 

       If time travel were a legitimate thing, Miranda would without a doubt go back five seconds in time to take back her slightly insensitive (but entirely necessary) question.

 

The editor wasn’t even given the chance to ask the girl for a possible address before Andrea’s hiccupping intensified into a full-on cry, causing Miranda to swear silently to herself in her head.

 

Without another thought, she scooped the sobbing girl up in her arms and made way for the bathroom down the hall. Wordlessly, she placed Andrea aside the big marble tub and went to fill it with some nice warm water.

 

Miranda’s patience was wearing thin, but the woman forced herself to take a grounding breath. “I get how shaken you must be by all of this so, here’s something I like to do when I’m far too rattled by anything to function and numerous bottles of fine wine just won’t foot the bill.” Miranda told the young girl, “Plus, a clean bath would surely do you some good.” The editor added while eyeing Andrea from head to toe.

 

╫

 

With a runny nose and maddening headache, Andrea forced herself to calm down enough where she could take in the change in scenery. They were in a large, lavish bathroom that had a rather high ceiling that made the girl feel no bigger than the size of an ant. And now without the security of the duvet, Andrea folded her arms in on herself and shifted from foot to foot as the floor tiles were a little too cold for comfort.

 

“Would you like some bath salts, dear?”

 

Andrea looked on blankly at the lady ruffling through the cupboards beneath the bathroom sink.

 

“No?” Miranda hummed, “Perhaps only a little then.” She said before pouring a bit into the tub. Soon after a lovely and calming aroma filled the room.

 

“Now, now” Miranda turned off the faucet. “Everything you’ll need to wash up can be found in that cabinet just over there,” she pointed “and I’ll not be too far away so just ca-”

 

The editor was cut off by a loud whimper accompanied by Andrea quickly shaking her head in disapproval.

 

The white haired woman looked confused. “What is it dear?”

 

Very slowly, with unsure steps, the timid girl walked on over to the bathroom door, closed it and locked them both on the inside of the bathroom. She fumbled with the lock at first, but finally managed to twist it into place before slowly walking back over to Miranda, nervously toying with the hem of her top.

 

The editor herself had no clue what to make of the girl’s actions. “You want me to stay?” She asked, and of course her question (like most others) went unanswered. She just watched as the young girl made a hesitant attempt at tugging off her jeans pants, only to fall flat on her bum when the tight material got caught around her ankle.

 

Miranda had gasped but remained in place to see how the girl would react to the fall. And just as expected, the editor could see where Andrea wanted to howl out in pain. But it surprised her when the girl simply waited for the pain and shock to pass before forgetting the pants, and instead trying to remove her worn out cardigan. Tears dribbled from Andrea’s eyes though, because as she was trying to take her arms from the sleeves the skin at her side burned from being stretched with her movements.

 

At this, Miranda rushed to the brunette’s side as the young girl cringed in discomfort. “Hold on, dear, I’ve got it.” She carefully helped Andrea out of her clothes until she was merely in little purple cotton undies. “No bra…?” The woman mumbled to herself because she clearly wouldn’t have gotten a reply from Andrea.

 

Either way, the girl was just about flat-chested and completely unashamed about her bare torso as her attention was on her scraped ribs instead. Her bottom lip wobbled as she stared at the angry red lines that marred her porcelain skin.

 

“You poor thing,” Miranda voiced empathetically (which was odd considering she never cared much for other people’s feelings aside from her own). “Does it hurt, sweety?”

 

The editor was surprised when Andrea gave her a barely-there, but rugged nod of the head. Looking at the woman through an eye that was nearly swollen shut was a bit difficult for Andrea, but it was manageable thanks to her other eye.

 

“Alright then,” Miranda took hold of her hand, “We don’t want to irritate it, now, do we? Let’s get you a quick bath and then I’ll see to all your bruises, okay?”

 

With a balled fist Andrea rubbed at her teary (good) eye and gave another short jerk of the head before Miranda helped her inside the tub.

 

And again, no matter how small it was, the ever-zealous Miranda Priestly has made progress in yet another difficult (yet peculiar) situation.

 

╫

 

 


	3. Three

╫

 

       Déjà vu had always been one of the most puzzling things Miranda felt she could experience. And here, sitting alongside her bathtub with a doe-eyed girl staring up at her from the depths of scented water, she’s never felt more puzzled in her life.

 

       In the short time that the girl has been awake Miranda had readily picked up on a few things. And each thing that she noticed was nothing short of peculiar. Not only did the girl look far younger than she was (assuming the I.D she came across last night was real), but the editor noticed that the brunette’s behavior was more childlike than anything she’s ever seen before in an average twenty-year-old girl.

 

Right away, Miranda saw that Andrea was easily provoked and very sensitive, be it emotionally or physically. She also noted that the girl had mannerisms that were much like that of a toddler’s. It was certainly unusual, the way the girl fiddled with her hands and fingers when she was nervous about wanting Miranda to stay in the bathroom. And then again, why would she want Miranda to stay at all?

 

 The woman had furrowed her brows in curiosity because of how Andrea had fumbled with even the simplest of mechanisms, like locking the door or stepping out of her pants by herself. _Well,_ maybe the last one was because of the sure amount of pain the girl was in. However, that doesn’t account for the way Andrea quickly seeks out some form of safety whenever she’s afraid or startled. For instance, when seeing Miranda for the first time, Andrea had tried to find safety in the corner just behind the door of the guest bedroom; much like how a kid would hide behind their parent’s leg when meeting someone unfamiliar.  

 

To say that Miranda found this sort of behavior to be odd would be an understatement.

 

But what’s even more odd? Miranda didn’t mind.

 

       “Aren’t you going to wash up, dear?” The editor gestured to the small towel floating aimlessly in front of the brunette in the tub.

 

       Slumped over where she sat, Andrea looked at the towel and back at Miranda. She didn’t really care to move and she’d just gotten over how the warm water stung near the scrapes of her side, so all Andrea could manage was a downhearted shrug of the shoulders.

 

       Miranda shifted slightly, “Well, how do you expect to get cleaned then?”

 

       Andrea slumped even further and silence filled the room.

 

       Rhythmically tapping her nails against the marble of the tub, the editor sighed before kneeling beside the bath, “Come here,” she told the young brunette while reaching for the soft towel and a bar of soap.

 

 _Alright now,_ Miranda thought to herself while lathering the material, _this can’t be much different than when the twins needed a bath, right?_

She placed the soap aside and gently reached for Andrea’s arm.

 

“There we are,” she spoke softly to the brunette as she washed her up. Miranda was especially careful when she got to the violet coloring around the girl’s neck. The woman frowned as she went over the area and a broken whine came from Andrea.

 

“I know, I know, it hurts.” She tried to pacify the girl with words. “We’re almost done, I promise.”

 

       Miranda had washed her hair and face while keeping Andrea’s injured eye and lip in mind. When it came to the girl’s lower half, however, she had made quick work of washing up her legs and was relieved to find that Andrea preferred to wash her private bits all on her own. Never mind how clumsily the brunette was with the towel.

 

“Look at you all clean.” Miranda smiled down at the girl who only blushed and looked down to fiddle with her fingers beneath the water. “Alright, time to stand,” she told her before letting the water out of the tub and reaching for a huge fluffy towel. “You stay here now while I go and see about finding you something to wear, okay?”

 

The editor brushed away the beads of water hanging from the girl’s long, dark lashes before situating her on the step near the tub and leaving the bathroom.

 

╫

 

Looking down at her damp feet, Andrea wiggled her toes from where she stood on the step. Her hair was already starting to dry and she was becoming a little anxious while waiting on the nice lady to return. So, before she could think better of it –carefully, she descended the step and padded on over to the bathroom door. Because it was left ajar, it made it a lot easier to poke her head out into the hall and cautiously make her way out.

 _Where did she go?_ The little brunette wondered while wandering about the complex layout of the house. Seriously, Andrea had to pause a few times. If not to prevent herself from tripping over the large towel, it was because she was trying to get a good read on the place.

 

Andrea had cracked a little smile, fascinated by all that she saw as her wide eyes roamed. The lady’s house was really cozy and expensive-looking compared to what she was used to. The earthy tones of the walls and furniture made Andrea feel just as warm on the inside as she did on the outside, too. She was passing the dining space when she came across a really large window pane that extended from the ceiling to the floor, giving Andrea the most unbelievable view of New York City.

 

“Woah…” The girl gaped and nearly lost her hold on the towel around her.

 

“ _Andrea_.”

 

Her breath had caught in her throat and she practically jumped out of her skin when she heard the lady behind her.

 

╫

 

After hurriedly going through a few things, Miranda had finally managed to find something appropriate for Andrea to wear. She’d went through a number of her own things but figured they were all far too big to possibly fit the waiting brunette. It was only when she somehow came across some of the twins’ old clothes that the editor decided on something suitable for Andrea.

 

She was about to go back to the guest bathroom but on her way there, she’d paused when she felt a puddle of water seeping through the stockings of her feet. Miranda looked ahead and immediately saw a trail of wet footsteps which easily revealed the culprit of the mess.

      

       She slowly counted to three inside her head before calling out. “ _Andrea_!”

 

       Miranda halted her hurried steps when passing the opening of the dining room. And there the culprit was, wrapped tightly in her bath towel staring out the large window with her face pressed into the glass. Miranda found the sight to be an adorable one but had to remind herself that she was upset that the young girl hadn’t listened to her.

 

“ _Andrea_.” She called again firmly.

 

       The brunette had turned abruptly where she stood with widened eyes.

 

       “Would you look at the mess you’ve made?” She stressed while gesturing to the fractured trail of water on the floor. “Didn’t I tell you to stay put?”

 

       Andrea’s bottom lip started to wobble at Miranda’s reprimanding and the woman’s tone softened at the sight. “Dear,” she sighed and stepped closer to the brunette, “If you’re going to be here and I tell you to do something, I expect you to do it. Okay?” Miranda lightly stroked the girl’s cheek when the brunette had bowed her head in shame.

 

“Come now, let’s go get you dressed.” She took the girl’s soft palm in her own and they left the dining room with Andrea looking over her shoulder at the view behind them.

 

╫

 

       Stood by the side of the guest bed, Andrea held on tightly to the lady’s shoulders as she worked her feet into a pair of clean underwear.

Afterwards, she’d been sat on the bed for the woman to apply some sort of cream to the scrapes on her sides as well as the scrapes at her temple. Once she was completely dressed, Andrea looked down at the outfit Miranda had picked out for her.

 

She donned a long-sleeved white shirt with a glittery daisy printed across the chest, along with a frilly white skirt and some yellow fuzzy socks that made her feet feel especially toasty. The sparkling flower on her chest was what really caught Andrea’s attention, though. With the tip of her finger, the brunette traced the edges of it all while one corner of her mouth was quirked upwards.

 

A hand came to caress her chin, “Are you okay with your outfit, dear?”  

 

A little less fearful, Andrea nodded surely in reply.

 

The lady smiled down at her, “Well, I’m glad you do. You look beautiful.”

 

Andrea blushed yet again.

 

 ╫

 

With Andrea’s hand held firmly in hers, Miranda led them to the living room. She had quickly snatched a thick blanket from the bedroom closet to place on the center of the living room floor and helped situate the young girl just near the couch with a few scattered pillows to surround her.

Miranda wasn’t sure what she should do about the girl just yet, but she did have someone in mind who could be of assistance. But until she could contact them, she needed to find a way to keep the girl occupied. Considering all that she’s observed about Andrea so far, she went out on a limb and turned on the wide plasma screen TV, switching it onto the first animated movie she came across. And sure enough, the spirited voices and bright colors of talking animals had little Andrea immediately enraptured.

 

Smiling to herself for the small achievement, Miranda moved onto the kitchen and swiped the house phone away from its receiver. After dialing a well-known number, she wedged the phone between her shoulder and ear so that she could move about the kitchen without a hassle. It rung a few times before someone finally picked up.

 

_“Hello?”_

“Jacqueline, dear, it’s me.”

 

_“Rindy?”_

Miranda rolled her eyes but smiled in good nature. She’d told her best friend long ago to quit referring to her as anything but her given name, but over the years the moniker kind of stuck with her. “I’m nearly offended that you don’t know my voice by now,” the editor replied. “Yes, it’s me.”

 

 _“Oh, quit your dramatics.”_ The woman on the end of the line chuckled, _“You have to excuse me. I’m having a bit of an off day, and coming from me you must know I mean **off.”**_

 

“Yes, well, I guess that makes the two of us then.” Miranda mumbled while looking over to the little brunette still mesmerized by the television.

 

 _“Yeah?”_ Jacqueline retorted, _“Because a client of mine just left and let me tell you, that man has problems **no** amount of therapy could possibly fix.” _Her best friend sighed through the phone.

 

“Maybe he just needs a better psychologist.”

 

       Jacqueline scoffed at Miranda, _“And where’s he gonna’ find that, hmm? I’m the best in the field, darling. If I can’t help him, no one can. I promise you that.”_

 

       Miranda hummed, “Your cockiness is showing, dear.”

 

       _“You’re one to talk about being cocky when I’m just tellin’ it as it is.”_

 

       “Oh wow, I forever question why I’m friends with you.” The editor teased in a drawl tone.

 

       _“Because you love me, of course.”_

 

       “And you sound so certain of that, but onto more important matters…” Miranda trailed off and exhaled loudly while opening the freezer of the fridge, reaching for an ice pack.

 

       _“Gee,”_ her friend remarked. _“Sighing as long and hard as that tells me that you’re under a **shit** load of stress.”_ Jacqueline seemed worried. _“What’s up, Rindy? Is it work again?”_

       Miranda shook her head despite Jacqueline not being able to see her. She adjusted the phone, “I’ve gotten myself into a bit of a situation is all. Well, my driver did, but either way…”

 

       _“What kind of situation?”_ Her friend asked, curiosity lacing her tone.

 

       And Miranda told Jacqueline exactly what had happened from the night before up until the present moment.

 

\---

 

       “…so now I’m trying to figure how to handle all of this.” The editor finished recounting the events of last night. There was silence on the line for a long moment and Miranda was expecting her friend to be completely baffled by the situation, but what she’d heard from the psychologist was only the contrary.

 

       _“Well,”_ Jacqueline started, _“I wouldn’t be too worried if I were you. You’ve raised two kids straight into adulthood, after all.”_

“What?” Miranda gaped, “What do you mean you wouldn’t be worried? Did you hear none of what I said, Jackie, this–”

 

       _“Relax,”_ the woman cut her off. _“I heard what you said and honestly, the situation you’re in is **far** from unheard of. You sound like you’ve got a Little on your hand.”_

Miranda’s brows furrowed. “A Little? Jackie, now’s not the time to be vague.”

 

       _“Dr.Follet, your one o’ clock appointment is here.”_

Miranda had heard a distant, unfamiliar voice on the other end of the line followed by her best friend’s.

 

 _“Shit,”_ the psychologist whispered into the receiver before supposedly pulling it away. _“Tell them that I’ll be right with them, Sara.”_ She came back to the phone, _“Look, Rindy I gotta–”_

 

“Duty calls, I know.”

 

 _“Yeah,”_ her best friend spoke hastily, _“I’ll come over later, but listen, that girl that you’ve got with you may **physically** be the same age as Cassidy and Caroline, but in reality you’re dealing with an infant. From all that you’ve told me, I’m 99% sure of this. Trust me.”_

 

“Wait! How do you–”

 

_“I’ve gotta go, Rin. I’ll come by later and we’ll talk more, bye!”_

The line had went dead before Miranda could even respond.

 

╫

 

       After Miranda’s phone call with Jackie, the ice pack she held in her hand had melted and she had totally lost her train of thought.

                 

       Leaning against the counter top, she pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration and was slightly startled by a little groan sounding from just in front of her.

      

“Oh,” she gasped softly when she saw that Andrea was in the kitchen. “What’s the matter, dear?” She looked down at the girl in concern.

 

The little brunette fiddled with her fingers while studying her feet until she’d worked up the courage to speak in the smallest voice ever, “Tee-bee.”

 

Miranda’s eyes widened. _Did I hear correctly just now?_ The woman shook her head. “What was that, sweety?”

 

Big brown eyes stared up at her as Andrea pointed in the direction of the living room. “Tee-bee” she said again with a little more confidence and Miranda swore that a bubble of warmth swelled in the center of her chest only to implode at the sound.

 

“TV, you mean,” she smiled a face-splitting smile at the little brunette and grinned even wider when Andrea eagerly nodded her head. “What about the TV?” Miranda prodded hoping to hear the girl speak again.

 

But instead of getting a verbal reply, Andrea had taken her hand to lead her out of the kitchen. On the television Miranda saw that there were credits rolling about the screen and she immediately understood. “You want me to change the channel?”

 

Andrea looked puzzled for a moment but nodded anyway.

 

“Okay but, you’re going to have to rest this on your face for a while.” The editor indicated the fresh ice pack in her hand. “The swelling of your eye needs to go down as soon as possible. Can you do that for me? Can you hold the ice pack against your eye while you watch TV?”

 

Again, Andrea looked puzzled for a moment but nodded anyway.

 

Miranda furrowed her brows, uncertain if the brunette was following what she was saying or just agreeing to whatever so that Miranda could change the channel for her. In the end though, she decided to give the girl the benefit of the doubt. “Come now, let’s have you sit back–” Miranda stopped mid-sentence when she took notice of a bright yellow ring at the center of the blanket she had laid out.

 

Mute and well in disbelief, the editor stood unmoving and her best friend’s earlier words replayed itself inside her head.

 

_“That girl that you’ve got with you may **physically** be the same age as Cassidy and Caroline, but in reality you’re dealing with an infant._ _”_

 

Slowly turning her gaze from the mess on the blanket, Miranda looked towards Andrea who seemed oblivious as ever.

 

“No tee-bee?” The girl frowned in question.

 

And Miranda could have handle this situation a number of wrong ways. She could’ve said ‘the hell with it’ and put the girl out of her house, flat on her ass. She could’ve gotten loud and yelled at Andrea for peeing on not only the blanket, but ruining the expensive white rug just beneath it as well. Miranda could’ve been scornful and given a mouthful to the girl about just how nasty it is that she’d pissed herself.

 

But she did none of those things.

 

Because staring back at the brunette beside her, she didn’t see a woman. She didn’t see someone deliberately pretending to be helpless so that they could mooch off of her obviously lavish way of living. Instead, what Miranda saw was a lost little girl who’s been trampled by life and had nowhere to run and no one to turn to.

 

She saw barely concealed sadness misting in dark brown eyes. And by the cobalt-colored bruises and unhealed scars, she saw that this gem of a little girl had once landed in the grasp of the wrong person.

 

And it suddenly pained her to say it, but Miranda saw a deprived child in desperate need of genuine love.

 

╫

 

 


	4. Four

╫

 

       “What do you mean, _where are you supposed to get them from?!”_ Miranda exclaimed.

 

       _“I’m sorry ma’am, it’s just –I’ve never had to–”_

 

“Really, Dixon, where _does_ one go when they’d like to buy something?” The editor huffed into the phone while stuffing the ruined blanket into the washer machine.  She hadn’t given her driver a chance to reply before she sighed in frustration. “The store, Dixon. Go to the store –I really don’t care which one– and purchase every item on that list I sent you.”

 

 _“Yes, of course, Ms.Priestly,”_ The man stammered on the other end of the call, _“But do you mind me asking w–”_

 

 “I expect you to be here no later than _three_ ,” she interrupted. “The clock is _ticking_ , Dixon,” was Miranda’s final statement before she swiftly ended the call, a firm scowl fixed on her face. After she’d set the machine to wash, she left the laundry room, mumbling to herself as she went. “How can one be so moronic?”

 

She sighed yet again.  

 

It had been a few hours since Miranda had talked to Jacqueline and even longer since she’d noticed the little accident Andrea had made on her living-room floor. And in that time, the editor had manage to work up quite the sweat. Moving back and forth throughout the house, Miranda had dispose of her living-room carpet, drawn Andrea yet another bath, and just recently put away the ruined clothes and quilt to clean. Really, the whole thing was completely unexpected and she was more than shocked when she had realized that Andrea had wet herself.

 

The second time around that she gave the girl a bath, the little brunette was even less enthusiastic about it (if that were even possible). With a subtle look of adoration, Miranda had noted where Andrea was barely able to keep her eyes open. While in the tub, the girl’s head was constantly lolling to one side or the other as Miranda made quick work of washing her up. And just as the editor had predicted, the moment she dressed the girl in a fresh set of clothes, the little brunette had fallen asleep –which brought Miranda to where she now stood.

 

In the guest bedroom, little Andrea was sprawled out atop the covers of the large bed. Dressed in a small, plain, white tee-shirt that barely covered her tummy and a baby-blue cloth that wrapped around her hips and the apex of her thighs, Andrea lay above a thin foam mat on the duvet, releasing little snores here and there as she slept.

 

From the doorway, Miranda smiled at the picture.

 

After the living-room incident, she decided it’d be best to not risk anymore accidents and took whatever precautions she could think of. Diapering the girl the old-fashioned way was certainly not as easy as she thought it would’ve been, but she managed somehow. She was merely grateful that Andrea had kept still enough for her to properly insert the pins throughout the entire ordeal. Miranda could only imagine the breakdown the girl would’ve had if she had accidentally pricked her in the process. After diapering her, the editor also thought to dig up an old yoga mat of hers to use just in case Andrea _went_ while she slept. It wasn’t problematic in the slightest to slip the foam beneath the slumbering girl and throw a cool sheet over her frame.

 

Entering the room completely, Miranda carefully took a seat near the edge of the bed.

 

 _How and when has something so mundane like watching someone sleep become so soothing?_ She thought to herself while adjusting the sheet so that it covered more of the little brunette’s shoulders.

 

And just like that, Miranda had completely forgotten about her rather agitating conversation with her driver. All the while she smiled down at Andrea whose nose twitched much like that of a furry brown rabbit, just as her mouth opened slightly and her little chest rose to release a quiet breath.  

 

“Hmm,” the editor hummed, “…what a peculiar little thing you are…” Miranda whispered, gently brushing Andrea’s cheek with the curl of her finger, mindful not to wake the sleeping girl. “Again, I don’t know what you were running from…but you don’t have to run anymore,” she said. And moments of silence passed as she kept her gaze on Andrea. She hadn’t gotten a response, of course, but it didn’t matter. Whether the girl would remain with her or not, for however long, Miranda would see to it that she was safe.

 

With a steady exhale, she got up from her spot on the bed.

 

Andrea had shifted only slightly, now laying on her side instead of her tummy, which brought Miranda to take the pillows from the headboard and create a barricade of sorts around her.  

 

“No more falling from the bed.” She spoke softly before dimming the light in the room and leaving with the door left ajar.

 

╫

 

In her home office, Miranda was sat at her desk going over the list (for the umpteenth time) that she had messaged to Dixon.

 

She figured that if Andrea would be staying with her for a while, she would need a few things to accommodate the seemingly ill-fated girl. Finding clothes for the brunette the first time around was difficult enough, so imagine Miranda’s luck when she managed to dig up the stray white tee Andrea now wore. The rest of the twins’ clothes that the editor was able to find were from when the girls were mere toddlers, and sure Andrea was small but – come on, that just wouldn’t do.

 

So while she had taken to ordering Andrea some clothes online, she had sent Dixon to purchase the more practical essentials that she didn’t already have. Miranda adjusted her glasses atop her nose while going down the list.

 

  _Disposable diapers_

_Powder_

_Vaseline_

_Hangers_

_Sippy cups_

_Designer Diaper Bag_

_~~Designer handbag to match~~ _

__

Miranda shook her head to herself. “Heaven knows I have far too many of those already.”

_Pacifiers_

 

(When she wasn’t sucking at her two middle fingers, Andrea had a tendency to sometimes grind her teeth while she slept.)

_Wipes, lots of wipes_

_Soap for sensitive skin_

_Lotion for sensitive skin_

_Audio and video monitor_

And lastly, _new white faux-fur rug for the living-room._

Just as her eyes traced the final item on the list, the doorbell sounded.

 

She eyed the clock.

 

Half past noon.

 

“Well, it can’t be him already…”

 

With furrowed brows the editor got up to see who it was. Frowning when the ringing became more persistent and erratic, she increased her pace and yanked the front door open, ready to give hell to whoever it was for being such a nuisance.

 

Her face was a steely glower that transformed into an unamused smile the moment she opened the door, “Really, Jackie?”

 

Standing just before her was her best-friend with a megawatt grin plastered across her face, “I come bearing gifts!” The woman exclaimed excitedly.

 

And true to her words, the psychologist was holding a bottle of fine wine in one hand and what Miranda assumed to be a gift bag in the other; an _‘It’s a girl!’_ balloon hovering just over her friend’s head.

 

Miranda rolled her eyes at the other woman before walking away from her friend and all of her _suffocating_ enthusiasm.

 

“What?” Jackie questioned as she caught her foot in the door and followed the editor inside. “Too much?” She called out in question and her smile was still as wide. She was used to Miranda’s _unique_ form of hospitality at this point.

 

“Volume, Jacqueline.” Miranda threw over her shoulder.

 

Ignoring her friend, Jackie’s eyes scattered all about the place, poking her head in and out of the rooms they’d passed. “Where’s the little one? I want to meet her already.”

 

“She’s asleep.”

 

“At this hour?”

 

Miranda shrugged. “How are you off from work so soon?”

 

They found themselves cooped up in the warmth of the living-room.

 

The psychologist plopped down in the couch next to the editor. “Two of my clients cancelled,” she said. “What happened to the rug?”

 

Tucking her legs beneath her, Miranda waved her hand with a sigh. “Andrea…happened.”

 

Jackie looked confused…until clarity showed on her face. “You’re joking.”

 

But Miranda’s blank expression said otherwise.

 

Jackie’s face then morphed into one of shock. “Hold on wait, she _peed_?” Her eyebrows rose even higher, “She peed on your oh-so-expensive rug? And you’re totally calm about this?” The psychologist covered her mouth to hide her grin. “I don’t believe this…If I’d so much as _stepped_ on that rug with my shoes on you’d go haywire.”

 

“Oh, quit it,” Miranda threw a decorative pillow at her friend.

 

The other woman laughed, easily dodging the cushion as she chuckled. “I’m sorry, Rindy.” Though she hadn’t sounded apologetic at all. “It’s just that that’s _totally_ unlike you right there.” Jacqueline pointed at the spot where the carpet once was.

 

“Well,” Miranda pursed her lips, “What would you have had me do?”

 

“Oh, I don’t know. It’s just, the Miranda that I know would have thrown the poor girl into the garbage disposal or something.”

 

“You exaggerate too much.”

 

“Says the woman who’s infamously known as the Devil herself.” Jackie chuckled again, “You’re on your what? Fifty-second assistant for the year now? And it’s not even March yet!”

 

“It’s not my fault the majority of millennials are daft as grass,” the editor drawled in disinterest.

 

“So…you’re okay with firing people for _breathing_ too hard, but you can easily overlook something like – _that_ happening?” Her friend had gestured to the bare floor.

 

 Miranda frowned. “You weren’t there, Jackie.” Her brows pinched, “Andrea didn’t even seem like she was _aware_ of what she did. And she looked so –so… _trampled._ Like, even if she had been aware, she didn’t seem to be pressed at all.”

 

Pondering, she easily recalled Andrea’s half-hearted and passive expression peering up at her as she waited for Miranda to change the channel; seemingly oblivious to what gave Miranda pause at that time.

 

“It was as though she didn’t have it in her _to care_ , about what she did _or_ about the possible consequences.” Miranda shifted where she sat, “You’re right. I _could_ have put her out, but the thought hadn’t crossed my mind once _._ And what’s more? I don’t think she would have resisted.”

 

Jackie narrowed her eyes at her in question, “And why’s that?”

 

“Why’s what?”

 

“That you don’t think she would have resisted.”

 

Miranda sighed, “I told you, she has bruises.”

 

“And?”

 

“And…if you saw them there’s no doubt that you’d think the same as I do. She was abused, Jackie, that much I’m clear on. And I got to thinking, if you’re already at your lowest…it’s not possible to get any lower, now is it? So I don’t even think she has it in her _to_ _find_ a reason to care. No reason to care about herself, no reason to fight for her own well-being.” Miranda exhaled long and hard. “It’s – _distressing_ …to me.”

 

And suddenly, the situation felt a lot more crucial.

 

Jacqueline leaned back where she sat with a contemplative look on her face. She cleared her throat, “For the sake of not having to power through all sorts of psychological jargon, I’m just gonna put it to you like this.”

 

“Are you insulting my intelligence, dear?” Miranda’s tone was a mixture of solemnity with a dash of playfulness.

 

“No, no, just listen. Hear me out, alright?”

 

“I’m listening.”

 

“Okay, so, you remember what I told you about Andrea being a Little, right?”

 

The editor’s brows furrowed, “Yes, you never did elaborate on that…”

 

“Okay, now, what it means to be a _Little_ may vary from person to person but, in essence, a Little is someone who –for the most part– sees them self as vulnerable. They’re naturally submissive in character.”

 

Uncertain, Miranda squinted in confusion, “Why does this sound like it has something to do with masochism and sadism?”

 

“But it doesn’t.” Jackie shook her head, “Well, I mean, in a lot of cases it _does_ , but that may not be the case here.”

 

       Miranda pinched her nose, “Yes, okay, hand me the bottle,” she gestured for the unopened wine.

 

       It took her all of a minute to come back with two full glasses of red. She handed one to her grinning best-friend, took a healthy sip of her own glass and retook her seat.  “As you were saying?”

 

“Reasons why I love you,” The psychologist hummed, still smiling as she herself relished the flavor of old grapes. “But yes!” She placed her glass aside, “I believe that _your_ Little has unconsciously regressed as a way to cope with whatever trauma she had apparently faced.”

 

Miranda’s glass was already half empty.

 

“So you’re telling me…that Andrea is what? Pretending to be–”

 

“Not pretending.” Jackie held up her index finger, “Remember, it’s an unconscious thing.”

 

“Right, well, _behaving_ like a child because she doesn’t want to handle life’s woes like an adult?”

 

“Pretty much.” Jackie clucked her tongue and downed some more wine. “This shit is _good_.” She eyed the dwindling liquid.

 

Miranda ignored her friend’s last comment, “I’m not sure what to make of that…” The editor’s head fell back onto the sofa and her eyes fell shut.

 

Jackie shrugged, “Some rely on drugs, some bury themselves in work, and some wrap themselves up in other people’s lives to serve as a distraction from their own problems. A more uncommon mechanism is apparently seen here with little Andrea, though, who seems to be reliant on _people_. Everyone has their respective ways of coping, Rindy.”

 

“And you think this is healthy?” Miranda had peeped an eye open.

 

Slowly, Jackie swirled the remaining contents in her glass, “Somewhat. It all depends,” she said. “I mean, think about it. With an avid caretaker, there wouldn’t be a need to hold a job. Less stress. There wouldn’t be a need to worry about rent, or a mortgage that you’ll most likely spend _half of your life_ paying off. _Even less stress._ And you’d have someone who caters to your every basic need, someone that spoils you with love and affection without you even having to ask. Hell, at this point –you’re basically worry-free!”

 

Miranda turned her head, facing her friend more directly now. “But?”

 

“ _But_ …fall in the hand of the wrong caretaker and–”

 

The sound of wet sniffles coming from just behind the couch gave Jacqueline pause.

 

Both women immediately peered over the back of the sofa and there stood a sleep-dazed Andrea. She’d looked so lost with sleep marks on both her cheeks and tear tracks running down her face. Her middle fingers were caught in her mouth again and–

 

“Oh my wow…” Jackie whispered in disbelief just as Miranda shot up from the couch.

 

“Oh, dear,” Miranda was quick to be at Andrea’s side. Peering down at the girl, her voice was full of concern. “Sweety, what’s the matter?”

 

When sniffling was all she got in reply she gently tugged at the brunette’s smaller hand to lead her over to the couch. She’d patted the spot next to Jackie and herself, but Andrea seemed keen on putting as much distance between herself and the stranger as much as she possibly could.

 

And Miranda wasn’t bothered in the slightest as she watched Andrea curl herself into her, sitting firmly onto the editor’s lap and leaning into the woman’s embrace.

 

Seeking some sense of familiarity.

 

“Well, damn.” Jackie finished the last of her wine, smiling widely at the two on the opposite end of the couch. “I’m feeling a little lonely over here all of a sudden.” She chuckled in good nature, “Just wow…” She gaped at the girl, “I wished I looked this adorable when I was twenty.”

 

Sure, Jacqueline had definitely noticed the bruising and she fought the urge to grimace at how _angry_ it all looked; at how angry it made _her._ But no matter the amount of discoloration that stained Andrea’s skin, the psychologist couldn’t deny how angelic the girl appeared. And major points to her best friend for the skillfully wrapped diaper.

 

Jacqueline smiled in thought, _all she’s missing is a halo…_

“Sweety,” Miranda looked down at the girl in her arms, “this is Jackie.” She spoke softly, “Would you care to tell her ‘hi’?”

 

“Hello, Andy.” Jacqueline tried to keep the cheerful tone in her voice without coming off as _too_ overwhelming. But just as she’d predicted, Andrea didn’t care to remove her face from where it hid in the crook of Miranda’s neck.

 

The psychologist wasn’t deterred though, “Hey, look what I got!” She prompted while snatching the gift bag from the floor. From it she pulled out a giant colorful lollipop and a stuffed animal.

 

Andy peeked out just a little while Miranda gaped. “You bought her _candy?”_

_“What?”_ Jackie shrugged, “All kids love candy.”

 

The editor looked mildly annoyed, “When did you even find the time to _do_ all of this?”

 

“Rindy, come on.”

 

Miranda glared at her friend before turning her attention to Andrea once more. “Take your fingers from your mouth dear,” the woman carefully pulled the brunette’s hand away from her face. “There we are. Now, wouldn’t you like to accept Jackie’s gifts? It was really nice of her, don’t you think?”  

 

The little brunette looked up at Miranda and back at the items Jackie offered. It took a while, but at some point Andrea held out a hesitant hand for the stuffed animal Jackie had extended.

 

“You don’t want the lolly, Andy?”

 

The girl’s response was to stare blankly at the psychologist.

 

Jacqueline looked puzzled, “Hm, that’s new.” 

 

Miranda smiled triumphantly at her best-friend. “All kids love candy, huh?” The editor couldn’t help her grin even if she tried, “What do you say to Jackie, sweety?”

 

“No, no, Rindy. It’s alright.” Jacqueline smiled, “She doesn’t have to thank me. Doubt that she’d speak, either way.” She pointed at Andy who’s eyes were slowly falling shut, yet again, as she held her new stuffed animal tight and burrowed deeper into Miranda’s hold.

 

“She’s like a little love leech,” the psychologist commented.

 

And Miranda wasn’t complaining but she did feel the need to mention, “She wasn’t so clingy before…”

 

“Well,” her friend tilted her head. “That’s to be expected. For some Littles their regression fluctuates depending on the situation. For other Littles, their regression is fixed.”

 

“You’re saying it’s possible that at some moments she’ll behave younger than others?”

 

“Exactly.” Jackie sighed before getting up from the couch. The woman stretched her limbs with a delighted (but quiet) groan before she gathered their empty wine glasses. She smirked down at Miranda and her eyes lingered on the now sleeping girl that her best friend seemed to hold for dear life.

 

“Motherhood always looked good on you, Rindy.”

 

╫


	5. Five

╫

 

“So, what are you going to do?”

 

A moment of silence had passed.

 

“I’m not certain…I figured that she could accompany me to work for the next few weeks or so.”

 

“Well, she can’t be left here alone, that’s for sure.”

 

“I know.”

 

“But what about the people at Runway? Surely they’ll have something to say about it.”

 

“And when have I ever gave a damn about the plebs and their thoughts, Jackie?”

 

Her friend snorted, “It’s not you I’m worried about, Rindy. It’s _her_ I’m concerned about.” She pointed to Andrea. “Reporters are always desperate for a story they can exaggerate, and this here is interesting all on its own.”

 

Miranda sighed, “Then I’ll fight the lies with a lie. To anyone who asks, Andrea’s my niece who–”

 

“No. As dense as they can be, the press wouldn’t believe that. Your biography is all over the web.”

 

The editor shrugged, “My god-daughter, then, who–”

 

“–came under your guardianship due to the _horrible_ death of her parents!” The psychologist rushed out in excitement causing Andrea to stir a bit. “Oops,” she cupped her mouth. “My bad.”

 

Miranda didn’t seem bothered though. “No, she needs to wake up.” She said, “She’s barely eaten anything all morning.”

 

“Well, if you want, I can whip up something real quick?” Jacqueline offered.

 

“Hm, your cooking is nearly as good as the average chef, isn’t it?”

 

Her friend got up to head for the kitchen, “Oh, Rindy. You’ve always found it difficult to give a direct compliment. I know you love my cooking, so what do you feel like having?”

 

“Surprise me,” Miranda smiled down at Andrea who’d only just then cracked her eyes open, “Surprise _us._ ”

 

╫

 

Just as she was turning down the flame on the stove for the final dish to simmer, Jackie heard rhythmic knocking coming from the front door.

 

“I got it!” She called out to prevent Miranda from getting up from her spot on the couch. Quickly, Jacqueline had peered through the peep-hole and immediately she recognized the familiar face of her best-friend’s chauffeur. “Dix!” She smiled at the man in greeting, “Hey!”

 

“Ms.Follet,” the man dipped his head politely in reply though he cringed slightly. He really hated when the psychologist shortened his name and he hated his parents even more during times like this.

 

“Woah, what is all this stuff?” She asked the minute she noticed the great number of boxes and bags surrounding the chauffer’s feet.

 

“Is Ms.Priestly in?” The man seemed a bit nervous as he took off his cap. Fiddling with it, he stated, “I was told to drop these by.”  

 

“Bring them in Dixon.” Miranda’s voice had ricocheted from wherever she was within the house and through the short foyer.

 

“Okay well,” Jackie opened the door even further. “Let me help you,” She offered without question, moving to pick up one of the heavier bags and carrying it inside. “Where do ya’ want me to put this, boss?” The psychologist asked Miranda in a playful tone when she’d reached the living room.

 

The editor rolled her eyes. “Rest it just over there, please” she gestured to a small loveseat near the corner.

 

At the sound of a high-pitched sneeze, Jacqueline turned instantly after resting the bag down. She gasped with a gleeful expression on her face, “Well, lookie who’s awake!” Jackie cooed while beaming down at Andy. “Bless you, Angel,” she awed at the dazed look on the little girl’s face.

 

Miranda frowned, “I hope she isn’t coming down with something.” The woman watched as Andrea crinkled her nose and brushed her teddy across her face. “Not too long ago she’d gotten soaked in the rain and I’d hate it if she becomes sick. As if she doesn’t have enough going on already…”

 

“Ma’am,” Dixon’s deep voice called both women’s attention. Immediately, he looked puzzled at the scene before him. “Ah…” He stammered over his words, “G-good afternoon, Ms.Priestly.”

 

“Yes, just put them over there.” Miranda told the chauffeur, nonchalant as ever despite the odd look her driver was sending the girl curled up in her arms. And she might have overlooked it if it were a quick glance, because let’s face it; the situation she was in was far from usual. But it was the fact that moments had passed and Dixon was still standing there staring at Andrea that put the editor on edge. Miranda got defensive.

 

“Did I not speak clearly or have you reached a whole new level of stupidity that doesn’t allow you to comprehend simple demands?”

 

Her words came through gritted teeth and her tone was kept low for the sake of the little girl she held. And even still, unlike any angry, loud outburst one could make when upset, Miranda’s ability to keep this calm when she was agitated kindled a greater deal of fear.

 

While Andrea was obliviously sucking away at her fingers, Jackie stood looking sympathetic for the man who looked damn-near ready to bolt.

 

“I’m sorry, Ms.Priestly,” he uttered with a dip of his head, quickly placing the boxes in the corner before going to retrieve the rest of the stuff.

 

_“Rindy.”_

 

“Don’t, Jackie.” Miranda ignored her friend’s disapproving look, “Did you see how he was looking at her? He deserved it. He deserved worse, actually.”

 

“Oh, come on. He was _harmless_. And it’s only human to be curious.”

 

The editor didn’t seem guilty in the slightest. “Yes, well I guess we’ll have to agree to disagree. That and I’m almost certain that you’re burning dinner.”

 

Jacqueline looked confused. “I’m what?”

 

“Kitchen, dear.”

 

And then it dawned on the psychologist. “Oh, shit!” She swore before hurrying towards the smell of charred vegetables.

 

 _“Language.”_ Miranda reprimanded her friend despite trying to keep the smirk off her own face.

 

╫

 

“Is she really going to need this much wipes and diapers?”

 

They were all sat out on the living room floor after the new carpet was spread. Andrea was propped up against a heap of pillows captivated by yet another animated movie, hugging her teddy as she did so. Meanwhile, Jackie and Miranda were busy going through the numerous items Dixon had dropped off. As soon as the chauffeur had left, Miranda had dug up an old box cutter from the utility closet and saw to opening all of the purchases, one by one.

 

Pausing, she looked up from the assortment of things and towards the other woman across from her. “From the time the twins were in diapers straight up until they were potty-trained I recall them going through _at least_ six diapers a day, _per twin._ ” The editor said as she stacked the packs of wipes side by side, “So yes, I do really need this much.” 

 

 _“Oh-kaayy,”_ Jacqueline sing-sang. “Whatever you say, Mama Bear.”

 

“Ah! There it is.” Miranda pointed towards a packet of pacifiers her friend just took from one of the bigger boxes. “Hand me those, please.” She took the packet, carefully opened it and headed to the kitchen to wash the binkies off. When she came back, she gently pried Andrea’s fingers from her mouth, “Here you go, Bunny.” She placed the plastic nipple at the little one’s mouth, and though the girl looked momentarily upset because of the disturbance, Miranda was pleased to see Andy suckle on the pacifier. “Now, no more fingers in your mouth.” She told the little brunette. And after a soft kiss to Andy’s forehead, she left the little one to her movie about talking cars and Piston cups.

 

Jackie grinned up at her friend as the woman retook her seat amongst the clutter of things they sorted. “That was really sweet to see.”

 

“What?” Miranda furrowed her brows.

 

“You called her Bunny. Where’d that come from?”

 

The editor flicked her wrist as if to say ‘ _it’s nothing’_. “She just does this thing in her sleep where her nose twitches. It wasn’t intentional, me calling her that,” She shrugged, “It just seemed fitting is all. 

 

And if it were even possible, Jackie’s smile got wider. “That Little of yours is going to have you completely wrapped around her finger within a week’s time. Probably even sooner than that.”

 

Miranda threw a lotion bottle at the psychologist.

 

“Ow!”

 

“Always the drama queen,” Miranda murmured.

 

“Rindy, that _hurt_!” Her best-friend exclaimed while looking for a scratch or bruise. She found none.

 

“Well, I’m sorry, Jackie. It’s just that you were doing the thing again.”

 

“What _thing_?” The woman scoffed.

 

“The thing where you talk too much.”

 

“It’s not my fault Andy turns you into a big _softie_.”

 

Miranda raised a brow, “Do you want the powder bottle, too?”

 

Just then, the little one in question came hesitantly toddling over. Andrea’s big brown eyes flickered from Jackie to Miranda and then she warily eyed the sea of stuff that separated them. 

 

“What’s wrong, Bunny?” Miranda’s tone had become a lot sweeter than it was when she’d been (playfully) threatening Jackie. _Hell, maybe I am going soft._ “Would you like to have the channel changed again? Is that it?”

 

Andrea shook her head with her arms stretched out to Miranda.

 

“Oh, you want to help me put your things away?”

 

Andy seemed puzzled for a moment but, in a jerking fashion, she nodded her head anyway.

 

“Alright, sweety, you can do that.” Miranda told her while pushing the lot of the purchases to the side so that there was a clear path for Andy to take straight towards her. And without a trace of doubt or discomfort, the little brunette plopped right down in Miranda’s lap to suck lazily and contentedly at her binky.  

 

Jackie gaped, pretending to be hurt. “How rich.” She tsked. “I’m the one to be attacked by a lotion bottle and _you’re_ the one to get all the cuddles?” Realistically, though, she didn’t expect for Andy to warm up to her right away. It would take time for them to build a trusting relationship and she knew this.

 

Miranda grinned smugly yet again but decided to indulge her friend by teasing back. “Would it help if I gave you a hug instead?”

 

 _“No.”_ Jackie replied as soon as she’d been asked.  She folded her arms in indifference, “I don’t want your guilt infested hugs.”

 

Andrea had taken to toying with the necklace around Miranda’s neck and the simple act fueled the editor’s sudden light-heartedness. “Me? Guilty?” She laughed at her best-friend. “You couldn’t be more mistaken, dear.”

 

“Yeah, whatever.” Jackie retorted as she got up, “I think its fine time I plated the food, all of this mistreatment is making me hungry anyway.” Jackie stepped over all of the clutter and made sure to throw one last quip over her shoulder as she headed for the kitchen, “I hate to break it to you Angel, but your Mommy’s a big bully.”

 

And those final words had left Miranda with an intense feeling of warmth, swelling right at the center of her chest that she wasn’t sure she was supposed to feel, but welcomed anyway.

 

╫


	6. Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter contains explicit violence and domestic abuse. This is indicated by the part that is italicized. Read with caution!

╫

 

“Andrea, sweetheart, you have to eat something.”

 

Sitting on one of the bar stools in the kitchen, Andy turned away from the spoon Miranda held to her face.

 

“You said she didn’t eat anything at all today?”

 

The editor spun around to see Jackie putting away her now empty plate in the sink to wash. Both women had already eaten and Andrea was the only one who hadn’t.

 

“No.” Miranda frowned, “she hasn’t.”

 

They both looked worried.

 

“Well maybe it’s too hot.” Jackie stated.

 

“It’s been sitting for nearly half an hour. I’m sure the temperature’s fine.”

 

“Okay, here, let me try.” She took the spoon from Miranda and grinned widely in front of Andrea. “Hey there, Angel. You look so positively _sweet_ with your little bib on!” Jacqueline gushed while straightening the bib around the girl’s neck. “Ya’ know…” she started while stirring the contents in the plate, “pasta’s one of my favorites. It’s easy to make and you can put almost anything in it!”

 

Andrea remained unmoving on the bar stool, eyes flickering back and forth between both women in front of her.

 

“Lucky for you,” Jackie went on, “I put lots of tasty chicken bits and a _whole_ tub of love in this, made especially for you. Don’t you wanna try it? Because it’d make me really sad if you didn’t…” The woman had put on a fake pout in an effort to persuade little Andy.

 

Quiet and uncertain, the small brunette looked over at Miranda yet again.

 

“Come on, Angel.” The psychologist tried to keep Andrea’s attention on her. “Just one spoon. Please? For me?”

 

Just from the side, Miranda looked on hopefully. With her best-friend’s constant prodding, Andrea seemed like she was about to give in as she slowly leaned closer to the spoon. But at the very last second the brunette pulled away and swiftly shook her head. Miranda saw that Andy’s eyes were becoming a little glassy and the girl soon started to sniffle where she sat.

 

“Alright, that’s enough.” Miranda sighed and undid the snap of Andy’s bib. “She’s not going to eat and forcing her is the last thing I want to do.”

 

Andrea’s shoulders seemed to sag in relief once her pacifier was placed back in her mouth. Eagerly, she sucked away at the rubber nub and was more than content to burrow herself into Miranda’s hold when she was taken from off the stool.

 

Resigned and far more concerned than she was before, Jacqueline had put the plate of pasta aside. “Something’s not right, Rindy.” She was staring at Andrea with an inquisitive look on her face. “Something’s really not right,” she said.

 

“I know.” Miranda responded lowly while gently stroking Andrea’s back.

 

In all the years Jacqueline has spent as a psychologist she’s found that not getting emotionally attached to her cases and clients was a rather difficult thing to do. But as time went on, she somehow figured out how to separate her personal feelings from the expectations that came with the job. She’s somehow figured out how to lock her heart away when dealing with numerous cases of abuse. And that’s not something that she’s proud to say, but it was necessary for her to learn how to do so.

 

When Jacqueline had gotten the call from Miranda telling her of the predicament she was in, the psychologist thought of Andrea as she would think of any other client she came across. But now, here in person, actually witnessing a blossoming bond between Miranda and Andrea, she couldn’t help her emotions from getting involved.

If Andrea meant something to Miranda, then the little brunette meant something to Jackie as well. And it was with this thought in mind that the psychologist became determined to provide Andrea with all of the help she could possibly give.

 

“I don’t want to just put her to sleep without her having a proper meal.” Miranda had said.

 

“Well that seems inevitable,” Jackie pointed to a drowsy-looking Andy who let out a small yawn from behind her binky. Jackie smiled as Andy gazed at her with drooping eyes, “How precious you are,” the woman mumbled.

 

“Isn’t she?” Miranda smiled just the same.

 

“Go ahead. Do what you have to.” Jackie told Miranda as she pushed herself forward from leaning against the counter. “I’ll put away the leftovers and wait in the living room until you’ve put her to bed.”

 

“Are you sure? It may take a while to get her settled in.”

 

Jackie took another glance at Andy, “I highly doubt that,” she said.

 

Puzzled, Miranda easily adjusted Andy against her so that she could see the girl’s face better. The editor’s face then morphed into one of mild shock once she saw that Andrea’s eyes were completely closed and her breathing had even out. “Well…she must be really tired.”

 

“Yeah,” Jackie agreed, carefully brushing the hair away from Andy’s bruised eye. “Night, night kiddo.” She whispered to the sleeping Little, just before Miranda left to put her to bed.

 

╫

 

With it being really late in the evening now, the house was rather dark and cold, which prompted Jacqueline to start a fire in the living-room’s hearth. And just as she was rubbing both of her palms together in front of the growing flame, Miranda entered the room.

 

“I honestly wish it were that easy to put the twins to bed when they were younger,” the woman stated on a long exhale.

 

Jackie turned to see her friend approaching the couch, baby monitor swinging in her right hand.

 

“I’m sure you do, Momma Bear,” the psychologist replied with a teasing smile. “Is Andy all good?”

 

Miranda nodded, “She had a wet diaper but it’s handled.”

 

 “Alright good, but speaking of the twins, aren’t they coming over for the holidays?” Jacqueline wondered.

 

The month of October was quickly coming to an end and she knew that her friend’s daughters usually came to spend the ending part of the year with their mother. Both had moved to live with their father when their parents had gotten a divorce some years ago. It wasn’t a nasty one, but after all of the legal complications that came with the ending of their marriage, Miranda’s ex-husband made it known that he would be moving states.

At the time, the girls were at a mature enough age to decide whether or not they wanted to remain living in the city with Miranda, or tag along with their father. And obviously, they chose the latter. Both girls talked about wanting a fresh scenery and Miranda took no offense to their decision. They still talked frequently and the twins’ relationship with their mother hadn’t dwindled at all.

 

Miranda plopped down into the sofa with a sigh, “Cassidy said that she would be here, yes. But Caroline I’m not so sure about. She seems to be caught up with school so she might not get here until Christmas or so.”

 

“And how are you going to explain all of this to them?” Jackie gestured to the pile of baby stuff Miranda had yet to put away. “I really don’t think them reacting negatively to Andy would help the situation any.”

 

The editor bit her lip. “With this all being so sudden, I hadn’t really had the chance to give that any thought…”

 

“Well I think you should at least give the both of them a heads up. For Andy’s sake more than anything else.”

 

“Of course,” Miranda agreed, “But I feel that I should have a better understanding of the situation myself before I try explaining anything to them. I need to know more about what happened that night. I need to know what happened to _her_.”

 

Jacqueline nodded, “I’ve been giving it thought and I think it would be best if I had some one-on-one time with Andy.”

 

Miranda made a face, “You mean counselling?”

 

“Ah…yes, but no.” Jackie shifted, “I’ll see how best I can see where she’s at mentally, but it won’t be documented, not legally anyway. I don’t want to take her on as an actual client. I’d hate to tangle what’s personal with what’s professional.”

 

“Okay…” The editor seemed reluctant about what her friend was proposing, but she trusted that Jacqueline knew the best route to take in order to figure out more about Andrea’s situation.

 

“Also…” Jackie paused before saying, “I think it would be best if you aren’t around when that happens.”

 

Miranda’s brows furrowed, “Why?”

 

Jackie sighed, “ _Because_ , Rindy. Andrea’s clearly grown some sort of attachment to you already and you being around could hinder the process. I need more information to go on and you being around her most likely won’t help.”

 

The editor suddenly got up from the chair. “Well, I think I have something that can.”

 

Jackie waited for her to return.

 

“Here,” Miranda offered the I.D that she’d found in Andrea’s sweater. “It may not be much, but it is something.”

 

Jackie took the plastic card, “She went to college…?”

 

“It appears so. I’m guessing whatever form of financial support she’d had wasn’t able to cover the costs anymore.”

 

Jackie looked up at her friend while turning the card over in her hand, “Why are you assuming that she dropped out?”

 

Miranda shrugged, “Just a hunch.”

 

“Hm,” the psychologist hummed noncommittedly. “I’ll make a few calls and see what I can find out about this.”

 

About a half an hour later, Jackie left with promises to set up a date to have her first one-on-one session with Andy. She and Miranda hugged each other goodnight and the editor thanked her friend for coming over.

 

“It was no problem at all. Call you tomorrow, Rindy.” Jackie promised while shrugging on her overcoat.

 

“Yes,” Miranda leaned her head against the side of the front door, “tomorrow should be quite interesting,” she said and the editor had waved a final time to Jacqueline as she herself fought the urge to yawn.  

 

 

╫

 

 

       _Scrubbing away harshly at the white porcelain sink in front of her, Andrea exhaled long and hard. She’d rinsed the lingering suds away only to wipe at her perspiring forehead while staring at her reflection in the mirror above the now sparkling basin._

_Her skin was as pale as a blanket of snow, which made the dark circles surrounding her eyes stand out even more than they usually would. As she adjusted the frilly skirt of the skimpy maid’s outfit she wore, she caught sight of the rings of bruised skin around both her wrists. Just before she felt the urge to cry, she shook her head and swallowed past the knot in her throat. She was starting to think negatively again and she really couldn’t afford another break down._

Its okay, he loves me. He has to love me, _she thought to herself._ I was bad, right? _She winced slightly as she rotated her left wrist._  I deserved to be punished.

 

_“Kitty!”_

_Andrea visibly jumped at the sound of his voice. She hurriedly put all of the cleaning products away and hiked her skirt up slightly in the way she knew he liked._

_“Kitty!” She heard him holler again from somewhere in the apartment, “I’m home! Where are you?”_

_There was a slight slur to his voice and Andrea felt her stomach drop in apprehension._

_Him being drunk was never good._

_But what frightened her even more was the second voice to ring throughout the flat._

_“Woah, dude! Nice place you got here!” She heard them say, sounding just as inebriated as he did._

_“I know right!” came a drunken chuckle. “My bitch does well to keep it all clean for me. I’m try’na figure out w-where the fuck she is.” He stammered and yelled again, “Andrea!”_

_“I’m here, Sir.” was the girl’s timid reply as she stood in the doorway of the kitchen. Her hands were clasped in her lap as she took to a kneeling position. Her head was bowed and heart picked up its pace when he came forth._

_“Well, well.” His friend was grinning widely as he eyed the girl on the floor. “Such a pretty young thing. And she’s housebroken too!” His friend laughed again, “Man, you are something for catching you a bitch like this.” His friend playfully punched him in the back._

_Andrea refused to meet either of their eyes, even when he had pinched her chin to raise her head up._

_“ **Of course** she’s housebroken. She knows her place.” His tone was full of pride and his ego swelled. _

_“Don’t you, Kitty?” He directed the question at her and Andrea knew if she didn’t look his way there would be consequences. So for whatever amount of dignity she had left, she pushed it to the side to meet his drunken gaze. “Yes, sir.” Her voice came out in a broken whisper._

_“Damn right you do,” he patted her cheek. “Get up. I brought you some food.”_

_And Andrea lit right up at that._

_Heaven knows she was far too starved to feel even the slightest bit of shame in that moment. She felt that her stomach would cave in on itself at any minute and was too elated by the idea of a solid meal._

_But she should have known better. Her throat was dry, her body ached and her stomach had grown tired of grumbling –but she still should have known better._

_Her shoulders slumped in disappointment when he threw a small paper bag on the counter. A transparent plastic container slipped out of the bag and on the inside, a half-eaten salad._

_Nausea._

_Though she wanted to ball her eyes out now more than ever, she plastered on a fake smile that trembled despite her efforts. “Th-thank you, Sir.” She’d told him and of course this made him smug._

_“See, she knows she’s taken care of.” He came up behind her, pressing a firm erection into Andrea’s backside. “I got her on a strict diet and everything.” He chuckled over at his friend, “Can’t have her putting on any pounds.”_

_He breathed in her soft scent while brushing the scratchy stubble of his jaw into her neck. “I mean look at this tight little ass of hers.” He emphasized with a sharp smack to her rear._

_“Be in the living room when you’re done.” He whispered to her before nipping her neck and leaving the kitchen._

_“This should be real fun…” she heard his friend say as he followed._

_And even though she was now alone in the room, she knew it wasn’t safe to let her tears fall. So long as she was here, she’d never be safe…_ but he loves me. And that’s…more than I deserve.

 

_Eyeing the bits of lettuce in the container, she quickly ate what she was sure would count as both dinner for the night, as well as breakfast for the morning to come._

 

 

╫

 

 

       The following morning had had an unusual start from before Miranda could even wake up.

 

From her bedside table came a high pitched cry that prompted her to spring up from her pillows in alarm. She was disoriented for a while, rubbing at her eyes as she tried to read the glowing digits on her clock.

 

_5:36 AM_

 

“Dear God…” she sighed tiredly as she moved to get up from the bed. Reaching for the baby monitor, she turned down the volume of the device and hurriedly made her way to the guest bedroom.

 

Turning up the intensity of the light in the dimly lit room, Miranda was displeased to see a teary eyed Andy kneeling at the very center of the bed. The girl was rubbing at the both of her eyes with balled fists as she hiccupped through her sobbing.

 

“Oh, sweetheart,” Miranda readily pushed the surrounding pillows aside and sat at the edge of the mattress. She went to pull Andrea onto her lap, but the girl flinched at the physical contact. She started rubbing furiously at a spot on her neck (which puzzled Miranda) but the woman couldn’t afford to give it much thought. She was becoming frantic without knowing what was troubling Andrea.

 

With a quick thought in mind, the editor jumped up from her spot and searched the room for the stuffed animal Jackie bought Andy. She searched through the rumpled blankets until she found it and quickly held it out for Andrea. “What about your teddy, dear? Would you like your teddy?”

 

Andrea just shook her head while continuing to sob.

 

“Well what about your paci?”

 

The brunette’s crying didn’t let up.

 

Miranda was completely lost on what to do and between Andrea’s cries and the few hours of sleep she was currently running on, she was damn well ready to pull her hair out in frustration. But then and only then did she pick up on three little fractured words spoken between Andy’s snuffling.

 

_“He loved m-me.”_

And it made Miranda frown in confusion. She was far too confused by who or what Andrea was referring to, to even register the fact that the girl had made a complete sentence. She scrambled back to the bedside, “Who sweetheart? Who are you talking about?” She hoped for an answer but to no avail, the little brunette gave her none.

 

Instead, she crawled on over to press herself into Miranda’s chest, curling herself up in the woman’s lap. “L-love me,” she hiccupped once more. And Miranda was too thrown by the situation to do anything more than hold Andy close, swaying them both from side to side in the bed.

 

The editor was wide awake at this point and she could clearly see the skin on Andrea’s neck where the girl had been grabbing. It was heated, bright and red.

 

 Miranda hadn’t anticipated this being as difficult as it was, but without having any prior experience with someone like Andy, she should’ve known that this wouldn’t be easy. Sure, she’s mothered two children but Andrea was a special case. With the twins, soothing a bad dream was as simple as making them a cup of cocoa and then singing them back to sleep.

 

But with Andrea, a simple touch could seemingly send the girl reeling to an unpleasant memory.

 

Sighing, Miranda looked up to the ceiling. _Am I in way over my head? Could I really do this?_ She wondered.

 

A shivering Andrea brought her to look back down at the bundle in her arms. “ _Oh_ ,” Miranda sounded while quickly reaching for the smaller blanket she had thrown across the little one earlier. She covered the girl with it and then grabbed Andy’s paci from atop one of the pillows. “Here Sweety,” she slipped it into the brunette’s mouth and Andy visibly felt far more comforted. She still nuzzled her face into Miranda’s chest, but the editor figured the girl was trying to seek as much warmth as she could.

 

With Andrea far calmer than before, Miranda was more at ease as well. Still swaying, she ran her hand up and down the little one’s arm and leaned down slightly to kiss Andy gently on the forehead. “I’m not sure now that I can give you what you need, but I’ll most definitely try.” She kissed her again. To the temple this time.

 

“For you, I’ll surely try.”

 

╫

 

       Miranda’s life was built upon schedules.

 

       That’s the way it’s been and that’s the way it’ll always be.

 

Long ago, the editor had grown accustomed to following routines and she prided herself for being such an organized person. But with Andrea in her life now, things would need to change. Usually, Miranda saw to getting up at seven-thirty every morning precisely. She had been accustomed to having an early breakfast prepared by a certified cook, checking over all of her most important objectives for the day, and granted herself an hour to get dressed and ready to leave before Dixon showed up to escort her to work.

With a few minutes to spare she’d have him stop by an exquisite little coffee shop just down the block from Runway. Which gave her ample to speak with either of her daughters until her driver returned with a steaming cup of straight black beans. Nine ‘o’ clock on the dot was when she’d find herself at the foot of her office’s building, and nine-ten was when she’d usually find herself in the presence of her babbling assistants.

 

That was how her mornings _usually_ went. A total contrast to the predicament she found herself in now.

 

“Andy, Sweetheart, I can’t hold you right now,” the editor stressed while packing Andy’s diaper bag for the day.

 

They were in Miranda’s master bedroom and her little one was standing near the foot of the bed with a teary-streaked face while holding her arms out to Miranda; her teddy long forgotten on the floor.

 

Miranda’s hair was disheveled as she ran her fingers through it while going over all of the items she’d packed. She didn’t want to miss anything and–

 

The doorbell rang.

 

Miranda looked at the clock. _7:35AM._

“Shit,” the editor whispered beneath her breath. She was sure that it was Heidi, the cook. She wasn’t sure how Andrea would react to yet another stranger but figured her little one would have to get acquainted with the woman at some point.

 

“Come on, Bunny,” she beckoned to Andy who readily wrapped her thin arms around Miranda’s neck. “Now I don’t want you to be afraid, but someone’s come over to prepare you and I a nice breakfast, okay? They’re not going to hurt you and you don’t have to interact with them at all if you don’t want. So, really, there’s no need to be scared.”

 

Just before Miranda opened the door, she’s pulled up Andy’s nappy more securely around her hips.

 

“Ms. Priestly, good-morning!” A middle-aged blonde woman appeared at the front door. Her smile that was once as wide as the threshold had faltered when she saw (who she thought to be an adolescent girl) hanging off the hip of her employer.

 

“Pick up your jaw, Heidi.” Miranda told the woman icily as she was certainly in no mood for pleasantries.

 

“Right, and uh, who might this little missy be?” The cook asked in good nature, not bothered by the editor’s prickly attitude.

 

“Heidi this is Andy, and Andy,” Miranda looked down at the girl whose face was hidden in the crook of her neck. “This is the nice lady who’ll be cooking for us this morning. Would you like to say ‘hi’, Sweety?”

 

Heidi had to make a double take when she’d heard the editor speak in such a soft tone towards the girl.

 

Miranda sighed after no response from her little one and without another word to the woman at her front door, she went back inside expecting for the cook to follow.

 

“So what’ll it be today boss?”

 

The editor hummed, “Nothing extravagant today. Pancakes, eggs and a fruit salad should do just fine.”

 

“No problem, Ms. Priestly.” The chef nodded and headed for the kitchen once Miranda left the room with Andy in tow.

 

╫

 

       Although it was only the third nappy that she’s changed, Miranda was quickly becoming reacquainted with the diapering process. She had just got Andy all cleaned up and was currently taping down the lapels of Andrea’s diaper, just after she’d applied ointment to the scratches on her little one’s side.

 

       “At least your eye is starting to look a little better,” she murmured while helping the girl sit up. It took nearly no time at all for her to put Andy’s hair in a simple, but cute, ponytail that hung loosely at the back of her head. There were dark baby-hairs that couldn’t catch and of course Andrea’s bangs were far too short as well, but it all completed the look.

 

       With nothing else to dress the girl in, Miranda figured it was best to have Andrea wear what she’d had on during the very first time she met the little brunette. She had washed the outfit already and it was entirely appropriate for Andrea to wear at the editor’s workplace. So, now donning her baby blue dress and cream colored sweater, Miranda kissed Andy on the forehead before situating the little one in the middle of her king-sized bed.

 

       The editor sighed, “Now that you’re out of the way, it’s my turn to get dressed.” She put on some cartoons for Andrea to watch and quickly headed for her walk-in closet.

 

╫

 

       _8:30 AM_

Breakfast had been long prepared by Heidi and the chef had been gone for a while now. But it was eight-thirty and Miranda was _just_ sitting Andrea down at the breakfast bar in her kitchen. She was far behind schedule and the thought simply made her bitter. It had been hell to find something to wear this morning and she wasn’t able to go over her objectives for the day because she had to make sure that Andrea was prepared.

 

       She wasn’t mad at her little one, of course. But she was mad at herself for not thinking ahead.

 

       Dixon was waiting in the lot below and she had a short amount of time to try and feed Andy. She made up in her mind that she herself would have something to eat a little later, but Andrea needed to be fed.

 

       Andrea had turned away from the fork of pancakes as well as the buttery yellow eggs. But what she hadn’t turned down (to Miranda’s absolute delight) was the delectable bowl of fruit salad. With a _Winnie the Pooh_ bib draped around her neck, Andrea slowly chewed on the tip of a strawberry as Miranda smiled at her in encouragement.  

 

       “There you go, baby!”

 

       Despite her hell of a morning, the editor couldn’t help her elation over the simple fact that she was getting Andrea to eat something. Using the bib to wipe at a trail of the strawberry juice that was trailing down Andrea’s chin, she picked up another dice of fruit for the girl to eat.

 

       Her little one’s wide brown eyes stared up at her as she told the brunette, “I’m so proud of you.”

 

       And Miranda wasn’t sure if she imagined it or not, but she could’ve sworn she saw Andrea’s lips quirk up in a small smile.

 

╫

 

       _9:20 AM_

 

       The drive to Runway was a long one.

 

       But that was no surprise to the editor nor her driver, because traffic was always thick around this time in New York. Hell, when _wasn’t_ traffic thick in New York? Despite this morning already playing out in the way that it had, Miranda really preferred it if she wasn’t late for work right now. Sure, she was the boss and there wouldn’t be any real consequences for turning up after the designated hour, but she’s always been a woman of punctuality, and she wasn’t keen at all on breaking that record.

 

       “Yes, darling I can’t talk right now.” Miranda spoke directly into the receiver of her cellphone. “Carol, dear, I’m going to have to call you back,” she said hastily.

 

       Eager to get in the office, the editor stepped from the car immediately after Dixon had opened the door for her. Trying to juggle both Andy’s diaper bag as well as her own handbag on one arm with her cellphone in the opposite hand, Miranda ended the phone call with her eldest daughter before putting her cell away.

 

       “Let’s go, Sweety.” She’d held out her hand for Andy to take as she help her little one from the car.

 

       Andrea was slow to come out and as soon as she did, the brunette immediately went to put her thumb in her mouth.

 

       “Ah-ah-ah.” Miranda swatted her small hand away, “What did I tell you about putting your hands in your mouth?”

 

Andrea frowned up at Miranda. “Binky?” The little brunette asked kindly.

 

And it was the clear innocence displayed on her young features that had Miranda turning into absolute _mush_ on the inside. And she would have relented –seriously, she would have. But with them still being on the outside and given the numerous glances she was receiving from several strangers who she was sure was hanging around for interesting snaps, she had to deny Andrea.

 

“No, Bunny.” She adjusted the scarf around Andy’s neck. It was getting colder by the day and she was still apprehensive about Andrea coming down with some illness. She quickly opened the diaper bag and handed Andy her stuffy, “Here. Hold on to your teddy and as soon as we get to my office you can have your binky. Okay?”

 

Andrea didn’t look entirely pleased about the situation but squeezed her stuffy close anyhow.

 

“Dixon.”

 

“Yes, Ms.Priestly?” The man came up from where he stood near the car.

 

“Be attentive. I may cut my day short.”

 

“Yes, ma’am.” He nodded.

 

“I’ll call you if you serve any purpose.” 

 

And with that, Miranda’s shoulders were pulled back in a confident stance and her mask of indifference fell easily into place. The staccato of her polished Prada stilettoes echoed loudly with each step she took and, really? It was all on purpose. The editor reveled in the fact that with each step she took, her employees knew that she was coming. She fed off of their fear and found no satisfaction in any of the ways they all tried to impress her as she passed.

 

In the end however, Miranda was glad. She was glad because the only person who hadn’t been intimidated by her presence was her little one who’d clutched on tightly to her free hand as they strutted throughout the towering building of scrambling people.

 

╫

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is trash to me but you guys seem to love it. So, thanks for that. <3
> 
> Remember guys, this has been abandoned. I'm just putting the chapters back up that was taken down. I'm not actively working on this anymore.


End file.
